


The Witch's Enlightenment

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e11 The Witch's Quickening, Gen, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), POV Morgana (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: When Mordred arrives in Camelot with Alvarr, he increasingly sees Merlin as their adversary in the events that follow. Will the boy Druid reveal the truth about Merlin/Emrys to his own trusted friend and ally, Morgana?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Merlin Canon 2020





	The Witch's Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta, Gwyllion.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Merlin characters are the property of Shine TV and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

  
Distraught and out of breath, Morgana hurried into Alvarr's camp to deliver her dire warning. "Arthur's been sent to capture the Crystal. The knights of Camelot are almost upon you!"

Alvarr wasted no time. He ordered his followers to make ready. Tersely, he asked Morgana a few brief follow-up questions, and thanked her very sweetly with a kiss. But he also told her to flee, arguing that the battlefield was not for her.

Morgana was torn. She looked around for Mordred, but didn't see him. Relenting, she had to admit to herself that Alvarr was likely right. In her cumbersome court dress and flowing cloak, weary from the hurried ride, and without suitable weapons, there was little she could contribute to the coming battle. She would prove a liability instead, and reveal herself unnecessarily to Arthur as a sorcerers' ally in a situation where it would serve little purpose. Alvarr had magic and his group were fighters. They might make it. 

She turned to leave. There was no time for further deliberations. Still, there was a nagging doubt in her heart.

As she left the camp behind, a soft voice crept unexpectedly through her mind. "Morgana, please hide in the forest and wait until the fighting is done. I want to speak with you. I may need you. Please!"

She recognized Mordred's voice. Nearly stumbling in surprise, she looked around, but saw no one. The voice had truly been in her head. It was not just her imagination. It was real.

"I will wait," she wanted to answer him, but she didn't quite know how. She hoped Mordred would trust her to heed his plea nonetheless. She mounted her horse and rode a short way into the thick of the forest, located a suitable hiding place, and prepared for the long hours ahead. 

When the fighting commenced, she was close enough that sounds of battle reached her. Loud screams and the distinct sounds of clashing weapons pierced her anxious ears. Was Mordred in the middle of this mayhem? Could one of the screams have been his death cry? Tears of worry rolled down her cheeks. She waited, and listened, and hoped for the best.

The battle-din ceased. Dusk fell. 

"I'm coming." To Morgana's immense relief, Mordred suddenly spoke to her mind once more. Soon after, the boy appeared beside her, as silent as a small ghost in the waning light. 

"Mordred!" She pulled him into a warm embrace, holding him very tight, needing to sense that he was solid and real and not just a spectre. "You're alive! I've been so worried for you. The horrible sounds and screams of battle—"

"The soldiers tried to capture me. I thought they would kill me. I fled. There were too many of them. We lost."

Morgana froze. It was what she had expected and feared, but still, she had clung to hope.

Mordred extricated himself from her rigid arms. He stepped back and looked up at her, his eerie, pale-blue eyes curiously expressionless. But she still thought that she discerned pain in their luminous depths.

Morgana's heart ached. How much murder and persecution had the boy witnessed already in his brief life? No wonder he seemed so fey. Because of his magic, he'd lived in constant fear for his life, had been hunted like a wild animal. And his guardians and companions had been killed or captured.

Reaching out to the boy, she pressed his hands tenderly. "Oh Mordred, Mordred, I'm so sorry. But you still have me. And I will not leave you here, alone in the forest. You will have to come back with me."

"No, Morgana. I won't go back to Camelot again. Not now. Maybe not ever. It's too dangerous. But you are right, I cannot be alone."

"Then what will you do? What can I do to help you?" Morgana asked, amazed at the young boy acting this mature for his age. 

"I need an adult companion. With Alvarr as my guide, we could locate the Druids that hide deep in the forest.

"Alvarr is still alive? Are you sure?"

Mordred nodded. "He was captured. They're taking him to Camelot."

"What about the others in your group?"

"They are dead, all of them. I only escaped because I fought the soldiers off with my magic."

"Alvarr will be sentenced to death, Mordred. Uther is relentless. He will never be swayed."

"If you can help him escape from Camelot, I will ask no more of you."

Morgana drew a deep breath, steeling her will to the task. "It won't be easy. But I will do it, I promise. Wait here in the woods, and I will send Alvarr back to you."

The boy smiled, a fleeting expression of gratitude that looked strange on his drawn face, made even more wan by the shadow of his hood.

"Has Alvarr treated you well?" Morgana asked. "You need someone who really cares for you, not just for the potential use of your abilities."

Mordred wrinkled his nose. "Alvarr has been kind, but he never cared for me, not for my own sake. He needed my powers and my help in the fight against Uther. I was to take control of the Crystal that you brought here. But now that's been lost to us."

"Arthur took it?"

"Yes. Prince Arthur and Emrys."

"Emrys?"

Mordred grinned, and there was a flash of malice in his wide eyes as he pulled his hood back, baring his head to signify honesty. He looked straight into her eyes. "You call him Merlin."

"Oh. Yes, Merlin would surely have been by Arthur's side here, as he always is. But he could hardly have hindered Arthur's actions. They were on Uther's orders.

"You're wrong, Morgana. It was Merlin who told Arthur where to find us." Mordred paused for a moment, then added, very seriously, "there is something that you need to know."

"Then tell me."

"Morgana, do you trust me?"

"You know I do. I trust you, and I love you."

Mordred nodded slowly, his chest moving with a deep, decisive breath. "Merlin has magic."

Of all the things the boy could have said, this was one she'd never seen coming. Morgana's eyes went wide and her lips parted in surprise, even as her mind immediately disputed what she was being told. She shook her head in denial.

"He is a powerful sorcerer," Mordred insisted. 

"Merlin?" She knew she sounded completely incredulous, although she did want to believe him. "But he's so—"

"Clumsy? Kind? Honest? He's hiding his true self, and he's very good at it. Even when it means watching other people of magic die. Even when it means assisting in their murder." As he spoke, Mordred's words strangely became more mature, more intense, as if an older sorcerer was using his boyish frame as a medium. "Many prophesies speak of him, Morgana. The Druids call him Emrys."

"But..."

"He didn't wish me harm at first. He helped me when I was wounded, but he didn't really want to. His loyalty lies with the prince, and only with the prince."

Morgana nodded, her mind racing as everything she thought she knew about Merlin, everything she'd seen him do and heard him say, rearranged itself into a new and ominously darker pattern. "I see. And Arthur is loyal to Uther."

"Merlin battles and betrays his own kind if it helps Arthur, Morgana. I fought my way free with magic just now, but Merlin tried to stop me. He wanted them to capture me. I told him that I shall never forgive that, and never forget."

Morgana felt heat rising in her cheeks, anger boiling to the surface. "Then neither shall I." 

She recalled how Merlin had witnessed her sheer terror and panic at discovering magic within herself. Yet he had never told her the one thing about himself that would have truly helped her. He had never offered to share any knowledge or teach her about magic. How could he have kept quiet in the face of her anguish? It had to mean he'd never trusted her. He was no friend. No, he was a foe to her, and to others of his own kind. And what could his ultimate sinister intentions be, masquerading as a simple servant in the shadow of the throne?

"Be careful," Mordred warned her. "Your magic is far from strong enough to challenge him yet. He is dangerous."

Morgana frowned, pondering Mordred's words. She nodded. "Oh, I will be patient. Revenge is a dish best served cold. That was what my father said, whenever he told me bedside sagas of the lives and adventures of our Cornwall ancestors. When dealing with Merlin, I won't forget that saying. And I _will_ deal with him. You have my sworn word, Mordred."

"Then I am content."

Morgana leaned in, kissing Mordred's pale cheek and squeezing his cold hands. Tenderly, she ruffled his mop of brown hair. "I must leave you now and go back, they may be missing me already."

"I know. Take care, Morgana. Be vigilant!"

"You too, Mordred. Until we meet again." She got up, adjusting her cloak around her shoulders. "I will send Alvarr back to you."

"Thank you. For everything."

"No, I should thank you. You have opened my eyes and armed me with invaluable knowledge, Mordred. I will use that weapon in our fight against those who would persecute and betray us, Merlin among them."

Mordred smiled, a wicked little boyish grin. He raised his hand in farewell, and abruptly turned his back on her. His small teal-swaddled shape disappeared at once into the shadows of the underbrush. The Druids had taught him well. Bemusedly, Morgana recalled that sprites sometimes were rumoured to vanish into thin air. 

"Goodbye, Morgana," she heard him whisper in her mind.

"Goodbye, my dear," she replied. It was her first time consciously using telepathy. Her magic was expanding and evolving within her. So was her rage and her sense of betrayal.

She urged her horse forward, riding hard for Camelot. "Forewarned is forearmed," she muttered darkly. "When my magic grows stronger and I am more in control of it, then beware, _Merlin Emrys_. You do not know it yet, but I will be the end of you."

****

**** The End **** 


End file.
